


Friction

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Case Fic, F/M, Oral Sex, Public Sex, Smut, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-24 14:52:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18573745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: This case requires acting. The problem is, you and Dean have been at each other’s throats so long, can you really pretend you like him?





	Friction

Your phone had almost vibrated itself off the nightstand before you answered, groggily finding the call button and grumbling a ‘ _ hello _ ’ into the receiver. The second you heard Sam Winchester’s voice, you perked up, checking the time.

“Yeah, sorry, I’m awake. I shoulda been up a couple hours ago but,” you laughed, “you know what it’s like when you’re on unsociable hours.”

Sam chuckled at that. “ _ Vampires? _ ”

“Close. Vetala,” you yawned, stretching. “Can I assume you’re calling because you need my expert help?”

“ _ Something like that, _ ” Sam responded, amusement in his tone. “ _ We definitely need your feminine help. _ ”

Swinging your legs over the side of your bed, you got up, trudging to the coffee machine on the other side of the small motel room. “Thought you had Dean for that?” This time Sam’s laughter was more pronounced and you grinned. “I assume you don’t have me on speaker as I haven’t heard the words ‘fucking bitch’ yet.”

“ _ He’s in the shower. So, the case is in LA. How far are you? _ ”

“Couple hundred miles, give or take. I can probably be there by morning.”

“ _ Great. I’ll email you the details. _ ”

A brief goodbye and you hung up, turning all of your attention to your coffee. Your back still ached, the bruising far more pronounced that it had been at six this morning when you’d fallen through the door covered in someone else’s blood.

Damn vetala had thrown you around like a rag doll. She’d almost had you had one point.

You dressed and knocked back your coffee, pulling up the information Sam had emailed over. “What have you been up to now, boys?”

It wasn’t a regular hunt. No creature - a stolen relic. One that could wipe out an entire city if it wasn’t recovered and locked away in a vault. Sam had attached a picture of the red vase they were searching for, covered in pornographic and bloody images of Ancient Greeks.

“Interesting,” you murmured, clicking through.

Working with Sam was usually a pleasure. He was intelligent, funny, and very much like a brother to you. The only problem was that working with Sam meant working with Dean.

Dean Winchester was an asshole.

In the few years you’d known him, he hadn’t managed to improve your opinion of him. He was stubborn, antagonistic, sarcastic, and he  _ knew _ exactly how ridiculously good looking he was. It managed to infuriate you every time and Dean wielded his power to irritate you like no other.

Hopefully, this case would require minimal contact with the older of the two men.

Packing your things up into the back of your Civic, you settled your bill with the clerk and started the long-ass drive to California. It was mid-afternoon and the sun was high in the sky; you wound the windows down, enjoying the first scents of spring in the air. The radio was playing a roll of old classic rock songs that you barely knew the words to but recognized from your dad’s old cassettes growing up.

You drove into the sunset, humming along to the familiar tunes. As you crossed the border, you pulled into a gas station, filling up the tank and grabbing some snacks, resorting to the credit card that was registered to  _ Miss. Josephina Green _ . The scams weren’t your favorite method of feeding yourself but when needs required, you’d slap out the plastic.

By the time you reached  _ The Rodeo Lodge _ on the outskirts of Glendale, you were exhausted and the streets were dark. The AC in the office was bliss after the scorching night outside and you booked a single, texting Sam to say you were there and grabbing a shower.

He knocked just as you were towelling your hair off and when you opened the door, you were relieved it was only him.

“Hey,” he greeted; you stepped back, allowing him to fit his huge shoulders through the door frame. “Dean’s, er, Dean’s at the bar…”

You snorted. “Of course he is.”

“We thought it would be better if I came to see you on my own. Because of, er,” he hesitated, searching for the right word, “the tension?”

“You mean the all-consuming irritation that I feel whenever I’m in the same room as him?” Sam’s dry laugh was nervous and you flashed him a sardonic smile. “I can behave like an adult. How’s Dean doing with that?”

“Not great,” Sam grunted, dragging his hand through his hair. “Look, I know it’s a lot to ask -”

“It’s not,” you replied, your expression relaxing into friendliness. “Case is a case. You need me, I’m here.”

With a smile, Sam dropped down onto the end of your bed. “I appreciate it. Did you get everything I sent?”

“Creepy vase, power to kill.”

“Bingo.”

“And it’s being auctioned off tomorrow night, at this… occult… thing?”

“Yeah. We’ve got a witch friend - sort of - and she can destroy it. All we need to do is get into the party, cause a distraction so we can lift the vase out of there. It isn’t surrounded by too much security but outside of the party, it’s kept in a vault.” Sam’s cheeks went a little red. “We haven’t had good experiences with safes.”

You raised an eyebrow, folding your arms across your chest. “Okay. So, what’s your plan?”

Sam reached into his jacket, pulling out an envelope. “An invite with a plus one to the festivities.”

“Me and you?” He didn’t reply for a few seconds and you realized what his silence meant. “No. Sam. No.”

“Look, I’m stealthier than Dean -”

“You’re a giant! How can you be stealthier?”

“He’s better at the charming undercover stuff!” Sam exclaimed. “Besides, you can cause any distraction you like. Embarrass the hell out of him. It’ll be fun!”

Narrowing your eyes, you scowled at the sheepish hunter, none too happy about the proposal. “How did you get Dean to agree to this?”

He grinned nervously, flinching before he’d finished getting his words out. “He’s really really excited about humiliating you in public.” Your jaw dropped as you processed through various stages of anger, denial, pure blinding rage and homicidal thoughts. Sam watched you warily, swallowing as you started to relax, regaining your composure.

“You know what?” You smiled, resting your hand on your hip and Sam’s wary expression became outright fear. “He can try.”

*****

“Y/N!”

You rolled your eyes as Dean yelled your name again. Giving yourself a once over in the grimy motel room mirror, you spritzed some perfume on your wrists and neck, readying yourself to face the outside world in your disguise.

When you stepped out of the bathroom, both Winchesters were waiting for you. Both of them were dressed in tuxedos and for a moment, you missed their reaction to your appearance, too struck by how downright handsome they both looked.

“Wow,” Sam murmured, dragging his eyes over you.

Dean stared, his jaw slack, until you moved, sweeping past him for your shoes. Bending over, you didn’t see the way his gaze dropped to your ass, or Sam elbowing him in the ribs. “You don’t scrub up so bad,” Dean grumbled, rubbing his side as you turned back to him, slipping into your comfortable heels.

“And for a change, you don’t look like you ran blindly through lumberjacks’r’us,” you returned, giving him a fake smile. “Do the diamonds look like diamonds?”

Sam nodded. “They’ll do. You look great,” he complimented and you smiled, curtseying somewhat awkwardly.

“There’s really not a lot of room to move in this thing,” you muttered. “Hope I don’t have to kick any ass.” Dean snorted, heading for the door. “Hey, I could kick your ass!” you yelled after him, searching for the little purse you’d bought specifically for your cell. There was a knife in your garter, easily hidden by the style of the long skirt.

Sam chased after Dean, catching him on the walkway outside. “Dude, just chill, okay. Try and be nice. She’s doing us a favor.”

Rolling his eyes, Dean made a show of how put out he was by the entire thing with a full-body groan. “Sam, you sure this is gonna work?”

“It’s easy,” Sam chided, waving off his toddler-like behavior. “You’re good at drama.” Dean’s expression showed his disagreement with his brother’s remark but the situation was saved when you emerged from the motel room, shutting the door behind you.

“We ready to do this?” you asked impatiently, like you’d been waiting for them. Dean growled in irritation, throwing you a look before stomping off to his car.

“You can behave too,” Sam scolded, pointing at you.

It was hard not to laugh as you followed them to the Impala. Sliding into the backseat, you shut the door with a little more force than was necessary, smirking as Dean glared at you in the rearview. “Sorry.”

“Don’t slam my baby’s doors,” he grunted, turning his gaze to Sam in the passenger seat. “You might get an outright murder as a distraction if you’re lucky.”

“Good luck with trying,” you sneered and Sam groaned, covering his face with his hand. 

“Please,” he begged, “stop.”

*****

Everything was glitz and glamour. Despite the very expensive dress you were wearing, you felt underdressed, although Dean and Sam were both figuratively and literally, head and shoulders above everyone else.

You found it odd, how easily the both of them melded with the crowd. Neither of them were particularly social people, not with civilians, but when there was a job to be done, you had to admire their ability to camouflage, just awkwardly enough to be believable. Considering the size of them, it was fairly impressive.

Pleasant classical music was being played by a string quartet in the corner of the huge living room and you clung to Dean’s arm, dismayed when Sam left you to go and do what needed to be done. Dean did all the talking - he seemed able to lie his way through anything, so it was easier to stay quiet.

“You wanna dance?” Dean asked, stealing two glasses of champagne from a passing server and handing one to you.

“Dance?” Your shock was clear in your tone. “Do you even know how?”

Dean grinned, downing his champagne, wiggling his eyebrows as you did the same. “You got no idea what moves I’ve got,” he drawled, taking your hand. Ditching the glasses on another server’s tray, Dean tugged you through the assembled snobs, toward the middle of the room where couples were twirling to the music.

“I’d have thought the only dancing you had any idea about would be pole dancing,” you murmured, letting him place one hand on your waist, his other hand holding yours. He smirked at your comment but didn’t bite.

“Follow my lead,” he instructed.

You were skeptical but did as he asked, unable to disguise your surprise when Dean started to glide you around the floor to the string quartet rendition of  _ Moonlight Sonata no.14 _ . Instinctively, you moved closer to him as the music drew you in, each note reminding you of something you couldn’t quite grab.

“You’re uncharacteristically quiet,” Dean murmured, making you jump with how close his voice was to your ear. His cheek was almost pressed against yours and he seemed entirely too pleased with the way you’d reacted.

Your posture stiffened and you pulled back. “I’m nervous,” you hissed, keeping your voice low. “Don’t be an ass.”

“I thought that was what you loved about me,” he teased back.

Before you could cause a scene earlier than intended, a bell chimed over the music, which faded off. A man dressed in a formal tuxedo bowed to the crowd. “Dinner is served,” he announced, his voice clipped and high-pitched.

Dean pulled away, taking your arm in his, smirking as he gestured to the tables around the dancefloor. “My lady?”

You sneered unpleasantly, before remembering where you were. Forcing a smile onto your face was the hardest thing you’d had to do and you dutifully let Dean guide you toward the seats with your fake aliases in delicate gold lettering on folded pieces of card. Dean dragged your seat out like a gentleman would and it only infuriated you more to have to be polite to him.

“Thank you.”

Grinding your teeth together, you sat down, waiting for Dean to take the spot on your left. The table was circular, seating ten people and the group you were with were… odd. You supposed anyone with stupid amounts of money that went to an occult auction probably would be a little strange.

“I’m Richard,” the man on your right introduced himself with a brilliant smile and you blinked, unsure how to react when he offered his hand. Taking it, you smiled nervously.

“Y/N.”

“Is this your husband?” Richard asked, gesturing to Dean. 

“Uh -”

“Fiance,” Dean interrupted, leaning over you to take Richard’s hand and shake it firmly. “Dean Carlisle.”

“Richard Gossanger. I don’t believe I’ve seen you at one of these events before.”

“Richard, dear,” the old lady on Richard’s other side to you, patted his arm gently. “Don’t be nosy.” He flashed her a smile and you did the same.

“It’s okay,” you insisted, “I was a little nervous. I’ve not attended one of these before but my beloved Dean -” Turning in your seat, you fixed your most saccharine sweet smile on your rival. “He assured me it would be quite interesting.”

“You have an interest in historical occult items, Mr. Carlisle?” Richard asked, his eyebrow arching.

“Sort of,” Dean chuckled. “It’s more a family thing.” Richard lifted his chin, nodded as if he understood what Dean meant. “You?” The servers came round, pouring wine, and you seized on it, holding your glass up enthusiastically. “Careful, sweetheart, I don’t wanna be picking you up off of the floor.”

You scowled at him for a moment before smiling sweetly, taking a sip of the dark red liquid. With a chuckle, Richard accepted the offer of wine, reaching over to pick up the old lady’s glass too. “Wine, Mother?”

“Don’t ask stupid questions, Richard,” she chortled, nodding eagerly as the server filled the glass halfway. “Now, come on, sonny, you can spill a bit more than that.” You giggled as the old lady seized on the almost overfilled glass. “That’s better.”

The conversation started to flow as the wine did and although you didn’t pretend to know what was going on, you kept up. Dean nodded, appearing more knowledgeable than you’d given him credit for. Before you knew it, someone asked the dreaded question of how you’d met and you stiffened as Dean placed his hand over yours on the table.

“Me and Y/N actually, it’s a funny story,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “See, she hated me for the longest time - couldn’t see the appeal. I don’t blame her, I mean, she’s gorgeous, am I right?” Richard agreed and you blushed as Dean looked at you; the smile he flashed you made your knees weak. “Then one day, we were stuck in the same place and started talking… she realized I wasn’t as much of an asshole as she thought.” His fingers were caressing yours now and you stared at him, a little dumbstruck.

Richard’s mother clasped her hands at her chest. “How did you propose?” Her eyes were scanning your bare fingers. “I don’t see a ring?”

“That was my fault,” Dean said, before you could say anything at all. “The ring needed to be resized; it was my mom’s and she passed away a long time ago.” Every single woman at the table swooned at his tragic backstory but you were too busy staring at him to notice. The older woman waited expectantly. “Did you wanna tell the story, honey?”

Alarmed, you shook your head, your nerves getting the better of you. If it had been a police officer or a morgue attendant, you’d have no problem but this was getting a little too real to deal with.

Dean smiled sweetly, patting your hand and withdrawing it as the servers returned with the starters. “Well, Y/N here, she loves bears, right?” 

_ How the fuck does he know that? _

“I arranged for a visit to San Francisco Zoo, private, behind-the-scenes,” Dean rambled on as the servers placed a small portion on his plate and moved on. “They’ve got grizzlies there but the one species I know she loves is polar bears. She’d never seen one before.”

“Oh, how sweet!” one of the other women crooned, her hand at her throat.

You wanted to puke.

“So, right there, under the moonlight - cause, y’know, more romantic - we watched the polar bears in their pen, no one else but the keepers about. I got down on one knee, she said yes and -” Dean’s hand was on yours again and he was looking at you with such…. Adoration…

Your stomach churned.

“Now, we get to spend the rest of our lives together.” His eyes sparkled and your nose stung with emotion, the way it usually did when you saw something unbearably cute. For a moment, you thought you were actually going to cry - you snatched the napkin from the table and dabbed at your face, trying to control yourself.

“You are such a lucky lady,” Richard’s mother whispered. “I’ve been trying to find my Richard a wife forever but he just won’t settle down.”

“Mother!” Richard snapped, clearing his throat in embarrassment. Laughter tittered around the table and you almost jumped when Dean’s hand landed on your thigh. Shuddering, you pushed your chair back, forcing a polite smile onto your face.

“Excuse me, I need to use the restroom.” You turned away, rushing to the entrance of the hall, past other guests and servers. By the time you reached the restroom, you were almost hyperventilating; thankfully the bathroom was void of any other guests and you slumped over a sink trying to catch your breath.

Lifting your head, you looked into the mirror, staring at the makeup and fake diamonds, the way you’d pinned your hair up - none of it was you. These were the hunts you hated and you were regretting even answering the phones. Why was it you they called? There must be a hundred other female hunters they could ask.

The door opened and you jumped in fright, completely frazzled. Your appearance was dismissed with a frown by the blonde in four inch heels and silver dress who strode to one of the stalls and shut the door. As the lock clicked, your shoulders slumped.

How had you gotten so worked up in the space of thirty minutes? Was it the way he’d spun you round the dancefloor like he’d been doing it his whole life? Dean had never appeared to be very graceful but the way his hips had moved against yours…

A shudder ran through you. The wine was not helping and you actually needed to relieve yourself. Maybe five minutes just sitting down alone would clear your head.

Picking the stall at the end, you sat down with a sigh, covering your face with your hands, leaning your elbows on your knees. You could hear the other woman two stalls down humming as she peed.

Dean’s eyes as he’d woven his little fantasy tale were haunting you. Stupidly Disney-like hazel and green orbs that made your stomach shift one inch to the left, disturbing your entire body. His voice as he’d spoken, so full of adoration, convincing enough that for a moment, you were sucked into the fantasy.

Why would he put so much effort into that lie?

How did he know you loved bears?

The toilet flushed in the other woman’s stall and you waited, hearing the water as she washed her hands. Seconds later, the door closed and you released the breath you didn’t know you’d been holding, finishing up and sliding out of the stall.

She hadn’t left.

You froze, staring into fathomless black eyes.

The woman smiled.

“How  _ nice _ to see you, Y/N.”

*****

Dean tapped his finger on his leg, frowning as the minutes ticked by and you still didn’t return. Richard glanced over at him, a similar expression on his face. “Is your fiance alright?” he asked quietly. Forcing a smile on his face, Dean folded his napkin and put it next to his empty plate.

“I think I’m gonna go check. She said she wasn’t feeling well earlier.” He slid his chair out, hurrying off in the direction you’d gone.

The hallways were quiet and it took a little navigating to find the ladies restroom, which was nowhere near the mens. None of the security seemed bothered by his wandering and there were absolutely no staff near the bathroom.

Checking it was all clear, Dean felt like he was back in high school as he slipped into the restroom, grinding to a halt when he saw you pinned against the marble tiles, feet dangling as some blonde in a trashy silver dress held you by the throat.

“Hey!”

The demon turned, flashing her black eyes at him. Instantly, his hand went to his gun, until he remembered it wasn’t there. 

“Dean!” you squeaked, eyes rolling back as the demon squeezed your throat.

“A Winchester,” she hissed, black giving way to blue as she stared at him. Dean glared back, his lips moving quickly to recite the exorcism he’d memorized. The demon snarled, tightening her hold on your throat. “I’ll snap her neck,” she warned.

You were rapidly losing the ability to breathe but you could still move. Focusing, you put all your strength into your legs, lifting your sensible shoes and shoving them directly into the blonde’s stomach. She released you instantly, tilting backwards, her four-inch-heels catching on the tile.

Tumbling backwards, the demon screeched and Dean restarted his recital, forcing the demon out of the woman. It trickled into the grates above the washbasins, leaving an eerie silence behind.

“Y/N!” Dean rushed to your side, ignoring the unconscious blonde. “Hey, hey,” he pulled you off of the ground, checking your throat, “you okay?”

“I’m alive,” you gasped, rubbing the sore spots where her fingers had dug in. “Thanks to your complete lack of boundaries.”

Dean smirked, letting the burn slide. “Yeah, well, sometimes being a delinquent comes in handy. We need to tell Sam we’re not the only ones casing this auction.”

“Good plan,” you whispered, jerking your head at the woman. “What about her?”

“She’s fine,” Dean dismissed, glancing her way. “She’s breathing.”

“Dean -” You stopped the question tumbling out, feeling your heart thunder as he focused his stupid eyes on you, a frown creasing the space between them. The dimples on his cheeks were still visible and for a moment, you wondered what his lips felt like to kiss.

“Y/N?”

His questioning tone pulled you out of your trance and you shook yourself. “Sorry. I guess… adrenaline?” The excuse seemed to work and Dean pulled you to your feet. 

“Let’s go find Sam.”

Slipping out of the bathroom, Dean took your hand, giving you cause to blink at him in surprise. When he noticed your strange expression, he glanced down at your joined hands, releasing you instantly.

“Sorry,” he muttered, ducking his head and moving off. You followed him through the halls, wondering where all the security was. Dean’s thoughts must have been along the same lines as he stopped, looking around. “This is too quiet.”

“There could be more than one demon,” you observed. “Where were the auction lots being kept?”

Before Dean could answer, there was a thud from down the hallway, following by the sounds of a struggle. Dean took off running, giving you little option but to chase after him. “Dean!” you called, just as he disappeared out of sight.

Pushing yourself harder, you rounded the corner, coming to a halt when you saw Sam, the vase in one hand and the bloodied demon knife in the other. At his feet, the body of a server, eyes open, vacant, and staring at the ceiling. “Demon,” Sam clarified, panting with exertion.

“Crap,” Dean grunted. “Think it was the same one?” The question was directed at you; you shrugged, looking between the brothers.

Sam wiped the knife off on the demon’s pants, pocketing it back inside his jacket. “There’s an emergency exit in the kitchens,” he informed you, “I can get out through there if we empty the place out.” He glanced down, frowning at the corpse. “Should probably move this.”

Dean looked around, striding to the nearest door and flinging it open, revealing a storage cupboard with an ancient looking floor-polisher residing inside it. “This’ll do,” he muttered. “Keep watch, Y/N.”

Normally, you’d have bristled at the gruff order but your mind wasn’t on track. With a nod, you tiptoed to the end of the corridor and waited, hearing Sam and Dean dragging the body across the shiny floor, careful not to leave too much noticeable blood.

Footsteps made you pull back and you turned abruptly. “Someone’s coming.”

Panic lit up Dean’s face as he tried to scramble for a plan. None of this was going as you’d planned.

“We gotta get outta here,” Sam mumbled, just as Dean saw something and darted across the hell. You figured out what he was doing two seconds before his hand grabbed the fire alarm and dragged the lever down.

Instantly, the loud klaxxon started blaring through the house, security staff calling out from all over. “That should empty the kitchens,” Dean grabbed your hand again, ready to run, “we can get -”

Water started to rain on you from above and you squealed in shock as the cold liquid doused your bare shoulders. Voices echoed down the hall behind you and both Winchesters turned, on alert for a possible threat.

“Sam!” Dean growled. “Go, now. We’ll distract them!”

Sam took off, his long legs carrying him down the slippery hallway easily and you turned to Dean, squeezing his hand to get his attention. “How are we gonna distract them?” you asked, eyes wide. Your hair was quickly being plastered to your forehead and Dean shrugged.

“Improvise?”

Snatching your hand back, you hitched up the skirt of your dress, pulling your knife from the garter on your thigh. Dean’s gaze lingered on your bare skin before lifting back to your eyes. “Stop staring, perv,” you hissed, although your tone was more playful than usual.

You weren’t expecting him to push you up against the nearest wall, his mouth crushed against yours, kissing you breathless. His name escaped your lips in a moan when he pulled away, eyes dark with lust.

He kissed you again.

“Hey!”

The voice barely cut through the haze of lust, your mind focused on the bulge you could feel against your hip. Dean grunted in irritation, lifting his head to look at the security guards. The two burly men stared back, their eyes filling with black.

“Come on, fellas. You tellin’ me you wouldn’t do the same?” he jeered, taking the knife from your hand and swiftly throwing it at the guards. It hit the one on the left in the chest, taking him down, although not for long. “Y/N, run!”

You did as you were told, relieved when Dean followed, the demons chasing after you, gaining quickly. The sprinklers made the floor slippery and you squealed as your feet went out from underneath you, sending you sliding across the polished tiles.

Dean screamed your name, just as the unstabbed demon tackled him from behind, taking him down. They scuffled, throwing wild punches at each other; you pulled yourself off of the wet floor and threw yourself at the demon, dislodging him. He rolled across the floor with a grunt, hitting the wall with a wet smack.

With barely a moment to recover yourself, you kicked the demon in the groin, causing him to hunch into a ball, giving you enough time to get to your feet, just as the other demon appeared, your knife in his hand.

Dean got there before you did, throwing a punch that hit its mark on the bridge of the demon’s nose - he clutched his face automatically, the knife clattering into a puddle at his feet. The demon on the floor was recovering and you acted without thought, kicking him once in the face, hurting your own foot in the process. Dropping your weight on top of him, you wrapped one arm around his throat, holding him still.

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus,” you gasped out, hoping it was clear enough to work. Dean was grappling with the other demon now, trying to stab him with the knife and your grip on the demon underneath you was loosening with his struggles.

The rest of the exorcism fell out in a clumsy jumble, clear enough to make the demon scream and buck you off before you could finish it. Dean picked up the slack, roaring the last two words. The corridor filled with black smoke and you released the man underneath you as his body went limp.

Panting heavily, Dean helped you to your feet, clutching your forearms as you clung to his, both of you facing each other. There was less than a few inches separating you and when Dean’s tongue darted out to swipe across his bottom lip, the memory of the kiss he’d given you moments ago made the heat in your belly intensify.

You weren’t sure which one of you moved first. His hands were everywhere, the weight of him forcing you against the wall as you kissed, barely noticing the continued water raining down on you from the sprinkles.

“We should get out of here,” you gasped, Dean’s face buried against your throat.

“Yeah,” he agreed, making no move to leave or stop touching you. His hips ground into yours, the obvious erection pressing into your lower belly, forcing a drawn-out moan from your lips. “Fuck, you’ve got no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.”

It wasn’t the best place or time but the will to care didn’t seem to be rising in you at all. You clutched Dean’s shoulders, clinging to him as he rutted against you, not stopping when the sprinklers turned off. “Dean,” you whimpered, “I -”

He growled, kissing you fiercely. “You wanna go?”

“Someone could catch us,” you panted, touching his face, mesmerised by the water droplets cascading down his forehead.

“Do you care?” he asked, lifting one eyebrow. You shook your head, pulling him in for another kiss. His hands dropped to your waist, bunching the material of your dress as he dragged it up your legs. “Want you so bad.”

Adrenaline from the fight only enhanced your arousal and your fingers grabbed the fastening of his tuxedo pants, eager to get them undone. Dean sought out greedy kisses, moaning into your mouth when your hand slipped into his pants, grasping his length in your wet palm.

No wonder he was so cocky.

He smirked, thrusting into your hand as he finally got his fingers under your skirt. They brushed the material covering your pussy and you exhaled with a shudder, stroking him firmly.

The logistics of public sex against a wall were not the easiest - you and Dean were pressed so close together, you could barely breathe. His fingers curved into your panties, dragging them to the side and he had just enough room to slide two thick digits inside you.

“Fucking wet for me?” he purred, his mouth against your ear. Your head made a quiet thud as you pushed back against the wall, still moving your hand inside his pants. “God, I wanna be inside you -”

The lights went out. Momentary panic made you pause but Dean didn’t stop, even when loud voices started to draw a little too near. Withdrawing your hand just as flashlights bounced off of the walls, Dean finally pulled away, growling in frustration as he let your dress drop.

“Okay, now we need to go,” he surmised, dragging you away from the two dead bodies and away from the approaching voices.

Winding corridors led you back to the bathrooms and with the threat of more security guards clearing out the disastrous event, Dean pulled you into the ladies, closing the door quietly before hustling you into a stall and locking the door.

“Dean -”

“Ssh,” he ordered, covering your mouth with his hand. Irritated at the order, you dropped to your knees before he could stop you, grabbing at his half-open pants. Dean cursed under his breath, leaning against the tiles behind him for support as you pulled his cock free, pleased to see he’d lost none of his erection during your escape.

His hands clawed against the wall as you licked at his tip, tasting his pre-cum on your tongue. The second you sucked him between your lips, he moaned, surrendering to your touch. You smiled, triumphant at having him wilt so easily.

Knowing you had him at your mercy made you bolder - you took him as deep as you could, almost triggering your gag reflex before you pulled back, repeating the action until Dean was panting for breath, one hand covering his own mouth to silence his noises.

It didn’t take long for the stimulation to become too much and you swallowed around him, coaxing his climax out. A strained and muffled ‘ _ fuck _ ’ accompanied the splash of his cum on your tongue and you kept going, humming happily at the taste of him.

The bathroom door opened.

You paused, Dean’s cock resting on your tongue, rapidly softening. He went still, despite the shake in his legs, eyes focused on the stall door.

“One of the doors is locked,” a voice murmured. 

“We’re still missing two guests,” another voice answered.

They stopped speaking and you looked up at Dean, meeting his eyes with his dick still in your mouth. His jaw clenched and you slowly withdrew, just as footsteps stopped right outside the stall. You got to your feet, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Excuse me?” the first voice asked, knocking on the door at the same time. “We’re evacuating the building. We’ll, er, need you to come out.”

You were trying so hard not to laugh as Dean tucked his cock back into his pants, watching you with a glare as you reached for the lock. Stepping out, you looked up at the two security guards, blushing and batting your eyelashes. “Sorry,” you whispered, “we didn’t realize it was an emergency. Kinda got caught up in the moment.” Dean stepped out behind you, prompting the guard to smirk.

“No worries, miss. If you could leave the building via the main entrance, please?”

Letting the men guide you and Dean out, they took the path toward where you’d left the two dead bodies. As soon as they were gone, Dean grabbed your hand again and hurried you out into the foyer, through the crowds of soaked guests. Richard was there, his mother fussing over him, and you hid your face in Dean’s chest as he led you toward the car.

Sam was waiting for you, irritation on his face.

“You wanna tell me what took you so long?” he asked, glaring at his brother as he slipped into the driver’s side.

“Got sidetracked,” Dean grunted back, watching you in the rearview mirror as you climbed into the back. “We’re all good. But we should probably get out of here before they find those bodies.” He started the engine and the Impala purred to life, pulling away from the parking lot.

*****

“Can I come in?” Dean asked, hesitating at the threshold to your motel room. You looked up from stuffing your duffel bag, nodding as he slipped into the room and closed the door. “I thought we should maybe… talk?”

“Talk?” you mimicked, frowning. “About what?”

“Well, for one, the spectacular blow job you gave me that completely wrecked any chance of me showing off my stamina,” he quipped, hovering awkwardly by the door. You snorted in amusement, placing your last shirt in your bag.

“You could just thank me,” you replied, not looking at him.

Dean smirked, moving a little closer, holding his hands out like he was bringing a peace offering. “I thought… maybe I could return the favor.”

The thought of what he was suggesting reignited the almost-dead flames in your core and you lifted your eyes, turning to face him. “Were you now?” He watched you, unsure of your tone. “Answer me one thing, Dean - how did you know about the bears?”

His cheeks turned a shade of pink, the blush slowly crawling up to the tips of his ears. Nervously, Dean scratched a hand over the back of his head as you waited for an answer.

“The little things,” he murmured, avoiding your eyes. “The werewolf hunt in Saxtonville. You bought that little keychain with the grizzly bear on it. We fought over who actually got the killing shot.” Sheepishly, he grinned. “It was you.”

“Damn straight it was,” you mumbled, folding your arms over your chest.

“And the chupacabra in Vermont - you saw that little bear in the window of that thrift store and I know you went back for it because it was gone the next day. Plus, it’s in your car, next to the photo of your mom.”

You swallowed, staring at him as he kept going.

“Then there was that hunt in Indiana, with the storm… you thought I was asleep but -” Dean reached past you, into your duffel bag, pulling Mr. Stuffs, your somewhat dirtied cuddly polar bear. “I know you take him with you everywhere, that he’s the last piece you have of life before all… all this.”

“You never said anything,” you whispered, staring at him as he tucked Mr. Stuffs back into the bag. “You… you never miss a chance to tease me about something.”

Dean smiled, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t tease you about something that truly mattered to you, Y/N. I wasn’t lying earlier -” He stepped closer, cupping your cheek. “I want you.”

The kiss was sweet and soft and you sank into it, letting your walls crumble and wrapping your arms around his neck. When he pulled away, you kept your eyes closed for a moment before looking at him, a smile curling your lips.

“What time is checkout?” he asked.

“Noon.”

His smirk returned. “Gives me time to pay you back.”


End file.
